Criticism of the gothic has over the last several years become almost overwhelming. Books, articles, even a journal titled Gothic Studies attest to the genre s seemingly irresistible appeal within the field of literary study, yet the path to academic legitimacy was long in the making. While gothic writing began to attract serious critical attention as early as the 1920s, it was not until the 1970s when the very meaning of literary study was changing dramatically, and when feminist criticism in particular was reshaping the literary canon that gothic took center stage. That criticism of the gothic came of age in the 1970s makes sense given what was happening both outside and inside the academy. As the women s movement and the civil rights movement were changing the very structure of American society, college and university curricula, the nature of academic inquiry, and even what counts as knowledge were changing as well. Jonathan Culler contextualizes these developments in American education, noting that they were facilitated by both the vast growth in the scale and structure of American universities from 1920 to 1970 and the upheaval that characterized so many campuses toward the end of this period. In retrospect, writes Culler, it seems possible to argue that student protest movements, which energized and disrupted universities in the 1960s, had the effect of disturbing a stable order and weakening the presumption of departmental control, so that when new critical and methodological possibilities emerged, as they very shortly did, they could be more easily introduced into teaching (1988: 25). 180
What kinds of changes took place? Culler notes the emergence of entire new programs and departments women s studies, black studies, comparative literature that challenged the discipline-based structure that had been the norm. Even within traditional disciplines, what was taught and how it was taught started to change considerably. In English departments, for example, authors and subjects that had formerly been excluded from study women writers and writers of color among them started to make their way into course reading lists. As what was read started to change, so too did ways of reading. Culler has traced the development of literary criticism over the course of the twentieth century, from its beginnings as an exercise in history-writing and philology above all, through the decades of the new criticism with its focus on the rhetorical nuances of texts rather than contexts, to the changes that began in the 1970s and have not stopped yet. At that point, he notes, literary criticism began to draw on various theoretical perspectives and discourses: linguistics, psychoanalysis, feminism, Marxism, structuralism, deconstruction (1988: 15), transforming itself into the field now generally called theory. And what is theory? It is, says Culler, the discourse that results when conceptions of the nature and meaning of texts and their relations to other discourses, social practices and human subjects become the object of general reflection (1988: 22). In other words, it is any one of many modes of analysis that let us come to terms with how meaning is generated in literary and non-literary texts alike (1988: 15 25). All of this movement has been reflected in the single sub-field of gothic criticism, as critics have brought to bear on this literature, which itself consistently challenges established norms, everything that late twentieth-century literary theory had to offer. My purpose here is not to account for all of that criticism, but to outline the major forms that it has taken and provide a guide through some of the work that has been done. Criticism of the gothic up to 1970 provides a further and important context for understanding what has been written since then. As early as the 1920s, Edith Birkhead s The Tale of Terror: A Study of the Gothic Romance (1921) traced the development of gothic from biblical stories through its development in England and America, while Eino Railo s The Haunted Castle: A Study of the Elements of English Romanticism (1927) detailed sources for and influences on specific gothic motifs. These histories are still instructive, even as they themselves invite rhetorical analysis. Both authors imagine the history of the gothic as gendered. Birkhead portrays Walpole as the father of the tradition, whose work did not fall fruitless on the earth (1921: 21), while Mrs. Radcliffe... with her attractive store of mysteries emerges as a seductive but also nurturing mother who probably...saved the Gothic tale from an early death (1921: 38). Similarly, Railo casts Walpole as father of the genre, albeit a father who attempted to hide his paternity until assured of [his work s] success (1927: 6), while he credits Clara Reeve 181
with being the one who, [i]nto the framework supplied by Walpole... pours the first leavening of female sensitivity (1927: 8). Radcliffe is in his eyes the acme of the gothic tradition to this point the only one of the authors mentioned so far to have any real understanding of the romanticism toward which gothic novels supposedly aim (1927: 15) and presumably an amalgam of the male and female principles represented by Walpole and Reeve. One wonders if these stories of male fertility and female nurture do not serve in part to contain the complicated accounts of gender formation that we see in the novels themselves, which seem to have at once fascinated and repelled both critics. Birkhead observes that Mrs. Radcliffe s skeletons are decently concealed in the family cupboard, while Lewis s stalk abroad in shameless publicity (1921: 64), and Railo sharpens this critique into a diagnosis when he studies Lewis s interest...in depicting an eroticism bordering on bestiality and finds in his work fruits of inflamed, neurasthenic, sexual visions, of a pathological psychology which betrays, unknown perhaps to the writer himself, an abnormal trait in his composition (1927: 280). Certainly over the next three decades, the major critics of the gothic took it as their task to contain or render acceptable this literature that seemed in so many ways unacceptable. J. M. S. Tompkins study of The Popular Novel in England (1932) argues in its preface for the importance of reading tenth-rate fiction in order to understand the sources of the pleasure it gave its first readers, and offers chapters on women writers, romance, and the gothic that even now are invaluable. Mario Praz s The Romantic Agony studies the education of sensibility, and more especially of erotic sensibility (1933: xi) in Romantic literature, including gothic, seeing in it not the pathology of the author but a distorted image of characteristics common to all mankind (1933: viii). Montague Summers s The Gothic Quest argues that the gothic quest has to do with the spiritual as well as the literary and artistic seeking for beauty (1938: 398), as does Devendra Varma s later study, The Gothic Flame (1957). The emergence of feminist literary scholarship in the 1970s changed the criticism of gothic completely. The appearance of studies such as Patricia Meyer Spacks s The Female Imagination (1972), Ellen Moers s Literary Women (1976), Elaine Showalter s A Literature of Their Own: British Women Novelists from Brontë to Lessing (1977), and Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Gubar s The Madwoman in the Attic (1979) did much both to legitimize the study of women s writing as a distinct subject, and to formulate ways of understanding it. As others have noted, among these seminal studies, Moers and Gilbert and Gubar have particular importance for the study of gothic. Moers s work stands out for identifying the female gothic as a distinct subgenre that gives voice to women s fears of themselves. Moers builds her case partly around a discussion of Frankenstein, reading the novel as a birth myth 182
that replaced cultural stereotypes of maternal bliss with a portrait of revulsion against newborn life, and the drama of guilt, dread, and flight surrounding birth and its consequences that for Moers is the most interesting, most powerful, and most feminine aspect of Shelley s novel (1976: 92 3). This analysis moves far beyond the conventional ideas of gender that informed those early studies by Birkhead and Railo, and yet while Moers is too sophisticated to reduce women to their bodies alone this reading does risk essentializing women. Gilbert and Gubar s Madwoman in the Attic allays this anxiety in its focus on women s cultural experiences. Taking their title from the figure of Bertha Mason in Charlotte Brontë s Jane Eyre, they give gothic fiction figurative pride of place in their study, and the novel becomes an emblem for their reading of the female impulse to struggle free from social and literary confinement through strategic redefinitions of self, art, and society (1979: xii). Juliann Fleenor s essay collection Female Gothic (1983) stretches definitions of female gothic still farther, including essays on women writers from the eighteenth through the twentieth centuries, and from Africa, Australia, Britain, Canada, and the United States. Nearly ten years later, Tamar Heller s Dead Secrets: Wilkie Collins and the Female Gothic (1992) demonstrates how this male writer uses female gothic to write narratives about forms of power and authority literary, familial, political in Victorian culture (1992: 9), while Diane Long Hoeveler s Gothic Feminism: The Professionalization of Gender from Charlotte Smith to the Brontës (1998) argues for gothic novels as texts that do not so much reflect the experience of women as teach them how to become properly feminized. When female gothic is understood as a cultural form that can be taught to both men and women, we have come as far from that early threat of essentialism as we can possibly get. While female gothic quickly became an established critical category, criticism has not opened out into the hard and fast vision of female and male gothic traditions that one might have expected. Instead what we have seen are robust considerations of gothic that coalesce around specific issues and methodologies, making overarching arguments that often include consideration of the relationship between gender and genre (Miles (1993 and 1995), Ellis (2001), Williams (1995), and Kilgour (1995), for example, all discuss in some way the notions of male and female gothic). Among the most persistent approaches to the gothic are those that consider the genre s interest in the shaping of individual subjectivity, and while critics have addressed gothic from a number of perspectives, those of the past thirty years or so tend to have in common the recognition that identity is discursively constructed. Among the earliest of these studies is Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick s The Coherence of Gothic Conventions, which explores the relationship between gothic s major conventions and identity formation (1980: 25). Robert Miles s Gothic Writing 1750 1820: A Genealogy reads the genre as a discursive site, a carnivalesque mode 183
for representations of the fragmented subject (1993: 4). Maggie Kilgour s The Rise of the Gothic Novel discusses the genre as inextricably entangled in its multiple literary sources, a Frankenstein s monster, assembled out of the bits and pieces of the past (1995: 4) that nonetheless longs to recover a lost wholeness, in which individuals were defined as members of the body politic (1995: 11). Even psychoanalysis which, as Kilgour points out, is not so much a tool for reading gothic as it is itself a gothic, necromantic form, that resurrects our psychic pasts (1995: 220) has come to be seen as a way of coming to terms with gothic s interest in the shaping of identity through various discourses. Thus Michèle Massé s In the Name of Love: Women, Masochism, and the Gothic reads masochism and the Gothic as mutually illuminative explications of women s pain (1992: 2). Terry Castle s The Female Thermometer (1995) traces the invention of uncanny experience in such eighteenth-century texts as Radcliffe s Mysteries of Udolpho. And Susan Greenfield s Mothering Daughters: Novels and the Politics of Family Romance, Frances Burney to Jane Austen draws on psychoanalysis to discuss novels by women about missing mothers and their suffering daughters (2002: 13), making clear that her purpose is not to show that the novels affirm psychoanalysis but rather to suggest that they anticipate and help shape it (2002: 19). Related to this work on the discursive construction of identity is the range of research that has emerged in gender studies, gay and lesbian studies, the history of sexuality, and queer theory. Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick is again primary here. Her Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire (1985) did crucial work in reading gothic fiction as a sign of a homosexual panic that targeted all men as potential victims of a homophobic society and thereby ensured that heterosexual relations would remain the norm. This work on the way that social organization shapes sexual identities and desires has a counterpart in the seemingly very different work on sensibility that began to emerge at about the same time as Between Men. From Coral Ann Howells s Love, Mystery, and Misery: Feeling in Gothic Fiction (1978), sensibility studies have steadily and inevitably opened out into studies of gender and sexuality. Recent work includes Claudia Johnson s Equivocal Beings: Politics, Gender, and Sentimentality in the 1790s Wollstonecraft, Radcliffe, Burney, Austen (1995), which explores the male appropriation of sentimental discourse in the 1790s, as well as George Haggerty s Unnatural Affections: Women and Fiction in the Later Eighteenth Century (1998) and Men in Love: Masculinity and Sexuality in the Eighteenth Century (1999), which have focused sustained attention on same-sex relations in gothic fiction and other literature. Work on the body is also related to this early interest in sensibility: recent work includes Steven Bruhm s Gothic Bodies: The Politics of Pain in Romantic Fiction (1994) and Judith Halberstam s Skin Shows: Gothic Horror and the Technology of Monsters (1995). 184
As criticism has engaged with gothic s construction of subjectivity, gender, and sexuality, so too has it engaged with the related question of the genre s contribution to discussions of class, nation, and race. David Punter s major study, The Literature of Terror (1981), develops a reading of gothic tradition grounded in what Punter describes as an underlying historical materialism (1981: vol. 1, p. vii), and Kate Ellis s The Contested Castle (1989) examines the historical moment in which gothic emerged as a major genre, investigat[ing] the relationship between...two epiphenomena of middle-class culture: the idealization of the home and the popularity of the Gothic (Ellis 1989: ix x, xvi). Issues of national identity come into focus in Ronald Paulson s Representations of Revolution (1983) and its discussion of English and Spanish responses to the French Revolution. In the 1990s, Ian Duncan s Modern Romance and Transformations of the Novel: The Gothic, Scott, Dickens (1992) charted the relationship between the genre of gothic romance and national identity, while Cannon Schmitt s Alien Nation: Nineteenth- Century Gothic Fictions and English Nationality argued that Gothics pose as semiethnographic texts in their representation of Catholic, Continental Europe or the Far East as fundamentally un-english, the site of depravity, even as a notion of Englishness is constructed in the novels (1997: 2). Patrick Brantlinger s Rule of Darkness: British Literature and Imperialism, 1830 1914 (1988) turned attention from questions of nation to questions of empire with a crucial chapter on Imperial Gothic that opened a path or inquiry for other writers. Gayatri Spivak s essay Three Women s Texts and a Critique of Imperialism (1985) offered crucial readings of Jane Eyre and Frankenstein that also paved the way for further work. Katie Trumpener s Bardic Nationalism: The Romantic Novel and the British Empire (1997) also provides both a broad and a deep context within which to read gothic fiction, which she discusses at various points. The recent essay collection Empire and the Gothic: The Politics of the Genre, edited by Andrew Smith and William Hughes (2003), draws on texts from the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth centuries (it reaches as far forward as Salman Rushdie, Arundhati Roy, and J. M. Coetzee). Finally, critical interest in the related questions of gothic aesthetics and the reception of the gothic has also gained momentum over the past twenty years. George Haggerty s Gothic Fiction/Gothic Form reads Gothic as an affective form designed to elicit particular responses in the reader (1989: 9). Rereadings of the genre s engagement with the sublime also interest themselves in affective responses to aesthetic experience, beginning with David Morris s essay Gothic Sublimity (1985), followed by sections of Anne K. Mellor s Romanticism and Gender (1988), Frances Ferguson s Solitude and the Sublime (1992), Vijay Mishra s The Gothic Sublime (1994), and Andrew Smith s Gothic Radicalism: Literature, Philosophy and Psychoanalysis in the Nineteenth Century (2000). E. J. Clery s The Rise of Supernatural Fiction 1762 1800 (1995) has demonstrated how late eighteenthcentury British culture created the vogue for a literature of terror. James Watt s 185
Contesting the Gothic: Fiction, Genre and Cultural Conflict 1764 1832 reads the gothic as a category whose retrospective coherence is belied by both the diversity of the works so classified and by the antagonistic relations that existed between different works or writers (1999: 1). Michael Gamer s Romanticism and the Gothic: Genre, Reception and Canon Formation argues that the reception of gothic writing its institutional and commercial recognition as a kind of literature played a fundamental role in shaping many of the ideological assumptions about high culture that we have come to associate with romanticism (2000: 2). Finally, David Richter s The Progress of Romance: Literary Historiography and the Gothic Novel (1996) offers both a history of the gothic, and a discussion of gothic s relationship to history, as does Markman Ellis s more recent study The Gothic Tradition (2001). So where are we now? Enough has been written on gothic fiction over the past thirty years to make one wonder if there is anything left to say. To that question the answer must be Yes. Even as the university is both the transmitter of a cultural heritage and a site for the production of knowledge (Culler 1988: 33), so literary critics work to resurrect, preserve, and pass on literary traditions, and at the same to shape fresh readings of them. The meaning of a gothic novel (or of any other work of literature) will in important ways remain constant over time, and yet that meaning will change too. Stories will resonate differently in different historical moments, and for different readers. And so I end where I began, asking my readers to return to my opening questions, and to consider how their answers to those questions derive from the texts themselves, from the work of other scholars, and from their own learning and experience. It is the conversation among all three that will take us forward. 186